


A Lot of Pretty Things

by sockablock



Series: It Takes Two (Critrole RSweek Drabbles) [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Gen, bonding over appearances, critrole rsweek, ep 22 spoilers!, these kids need more interactions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 06:29:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14971070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockablock/pseuds/sockablock
Summary: “Do you," Nott asked, "do you remember when Fjord shoved that weird gem into his stomach and it disappeared?”Molly nodded. “I remember.”“And then when we asked him why he did that, he asked us if we’d ever, um…if we’d ever once looked at our reflection and saw someone else staring back?”He nodded again, slower this time.





	A Lot of Pretty Things

**Author's Note:**

> It's early, but this is from Day 3 of Relationship Week! I posted it today because Day 2 was silly and im not putting it here and tomorrow im gonna have NO time to upload, so take 900 words of nott and molly being fucked up together right now instead

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Molly turned, and raised an eyebrow at the little goblin girl seated on the log next to him. They were only an hour into the first shift of the night’s watch, but the sun had already set and now only the crackling fire behind them and the faint glow of moonlight from above were the only sources of illumination for their small campsite. Nott’s eyes shone in the darkness. His probably did too.

“Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

She twisted the edge of her sleeve, and stared at the ground.

“Do you, er, do you remember when Fjord shoved that weird gem into his stomach and it disappeared?”

He nodded. “I remember.”

“And then when we asked him _why_ he did that, he asked us if we’d ever, um…if we’d ever once looked at our reflection and saw someone else staring back?”

He nodded again, slower this time.

“And you remember how…how you said yes?”

“Yeah.”

She kicked at a nearby pebble. “What, um, what do you see, Molly?”

There was a moment of silence. A lone cricket chirped from somewhere in the dark grass.

“It’s not always the same,” Molly sighed eventually. “But usually it’s this body, my body, but also not my body. Sometimes my hair is cut short and I’m wearing plain worker’s clothing. Sometimes I’ve got gold jewelry on my horns, and I’m wearing rich silks like I’m some kind of royalty. Once I was dressed in leather armor, and I had a short-sword. Facial hair too, if you can believe it. And once…once I was just a kid. A short, grape-colored little bugger with these tiny nubby horns and a stubby tail. At least, that’s what I imagined, since…you know, since I’ve never actually seen a tiefling child before. 

“But recently…recently…” he sighed, and took a deep breath. “Recently I’ve been wearing these awful, dull grey robes, and a maroon sash around my waist. And I’ve got a dagger hanging from my hip, and rings on my fingers, and there are all these strange faceless people, in those same grey robes, all standing behind me.” Molly shook his head. “I don’t care for that one, much, I admit.”

And then he looked back at Nott, as if only just remembering she had been there. “Er, sorry,” he said. “That was a load of shite to spill out onto you like that. You don’t...I don’t want pity or anything. I don’t need it. And it’s not like this is all I ever think about.”

Nott considered this. And then she nodded. “I get it,” she murmured. “I know what you mean.”

“Yeah,” sighed Molly, leaning back onto his hands and looking up at the stars. “I figured you might. I suppose you see something different too, right? What is it?”

Nott gave him a rueful smile. “That’s easy,” she said. “I’m a little halfling girl. I’ve got peachy skin and freckles and bright red hair and blue eyes. My teeth aren’t sharp and my claws are gone. And people won’t run away from me when I get too close to them.”

“Yeah,” Molly sighed again. “We’re pretty fucked up, eh?”

She snorted at that. “Definitely,” she agreed. “It sucks.”

“I dunno,” shrugged Molly. “I’d like to think of it more as a reminder. I _like_ who I am now. All those other assholes, whichever one is the real…the real _past_ one, they can fuck off. They were just some bastard that got buried in the dirt years ago. Compared to them, I think I’m doing just fine. I like me, and I’d like him to stick around.”

“I don’t like me,” said Nott. “I want to change.”

Molly nodded. “Then it’s a different sort of reminder for you,” he said. “Mine is a…a…a reassurance, that I’m doing alright. Yours is a goal.

“What if I can’t achieve that goal?”

“Nonsense,” said Molly immediately. “Don’t say that, don’t ever think that or you’ll have already failed. Think of it this way, right? Jester’s best friend is a god. Yasha’s an angel. Fjord spits up seawater, and you already know that Caleb can do amazing magic, and he’s only getting stronger every day. I’m not dead, and it’s honestly a miracle we haven’t killed Beau yet, right? Anything’s possible. There’s so _much_ in this world we don’t even know exists, and everything I’ve seen so far only makes me more convinced that there’s wonders at every corner. Besides,” he added quietly, “we’re a group now. Even if we always don’t agree with one another, we stick together. And that means we’re going to do everything we can to help you achieve that goal.”

She stared into the campfire, watched the embers dance for a few moments. A small smile quirked across her mouth.

“You say a lot of pretty things, Molly. A lot of times I think it’s pretty stupid.”

“Well, look now—”

She held up a hand. “That wasn’t one of those times,” she said. “That wasn’t stupid. Thanks.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he shot her a lazy grin. “You’re welcome, dear.”

“If it helps, even if we don’t always agree with one another, I think I like you the way you are now better than any other way of you there could be.”

His expression softened, and he gave her a slow nod. “Thanks, Nott.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The rest of their watch passed in relative silence. Occasionally Molly would hum a few bars of a folk tune and shuffle his cards, and Nott took to kicking the grass and rolling a crossbow bolt across her knuckles. But for the next few hours, mostly they just sat there together on that fallen log, staring at the smoke drifting up from the glowing fire and enjoying the company of another person that, for the first time in either of their lives, truly seemed to understand.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this silly little thing! If you ever want to shout at me about critical role, hit me up [@sockablock](https://www.sockablock.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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